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Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 't would win me
That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.1

BERNARDO AND ALPHONSO.

WITH Some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appeared

Before them all in the palace hall, the lying King to beard;

1 SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, son of Rev. John Coleridge, born in 1772, was educated at Christ's Hospital, and afterwards at Jesus College, Cambridge. He entered the light dragoons, but soon escaped from this uncongenial pursuit, and devoted himself to literature, in which he achieved celebrity as poet, philosopher, and critic. His fame rests principally on his prose writings, but much of his poetry is of a very high order, particularly the famous Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Genevieve. He died in 1834. His activity was impaired and his career marred and broken by excessive indulgence in opium. The famous Doem in the text, a fragment only, was composed during sleep proauced, probably, by opium.

With cap in hand and eye on ground, he came in reverend guise,

But ever and anon he frowned, and flame broke from his eyes.

"A curse upon thee," cries the King, "who comest unbid to me;

But what from traitor's blood should spring, save traitors like to thee?

His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart; perchance our champion brave

May think it were a pious part to share Don Sancho's grave."

"Whoever told this tale the King hath rashness to re

peat,"

Cries Bernard, "here my gage I fling before the liar's

feet!

No treason was in Sancho's blood, no stain in mine doth

lie:

Below the throne what knight will own the coward calumny?

"The blood that I like water shed, when Roland did advance,

By secret traitors hired and led, to make us slaves of

France;

The life of King Alphonso I saved at Roncesval,
Your words, Lord King, are recompense abundant for

it all.

"Your horse was down, your hope was flown, — 1 saw the falchion shine,

That soon had drunk your royal blood, had I not vent ured mine:

But memory soon of service done deserteth the in

grate;

You've thanked the son for life and crown by the fa ther's bloody fate.

"Ye swore upon your kingly faith, to set Don Sancho free;

But, curse upon your paltering breath, the light he ne'er did see;

He died in dungeon cold and dim, by Alphonso's base

decree,

And visage blind, and stiffened limb, were all they gave

to me.

“The King that swerveth from his word hath stained his purple black;

No Spanish lord will draw the sword behind a liar's

back;

But noble vengeance shall be mine, an open hate I'll

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The King hath injured Carpio's line, and Bernard is his foe."

"Seize, seize him!" loud the King doth scream; “there are a thousand here!

Let his foul blood this instant stream! What! caitiffs, do ye fear?

Seize, seize the traitor!" But not one to move a fin ger dareth;

Bernardo standeth by the throne, and calm his sword le bareth.

He drew the falchion from the sheath, and held it up

on high,

And all the hall was stili as death: cries Bernard,

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And here is the sword that owns no lord, excepting Heaven and me;

Fain would I know who dares his point, - King, Condé, or Grandee."

Then to his mouth the horn he drew (it hung below his cloak);

His ten true men the signal knew, and through the ring they broke;

With helm on head, and blade in hand, the knights the circle brake,

And back the lordlings 'gan to stand, and the false King to quake.

“Ha! Bernard," quoth Alphonso, "what means this warlike guise?

Ye know full well I jested,

prize."

ye know your worth I

But Bernard turned upon his heel, and smiling passed

away:

Long rued Alphonso and his realm the jesting of that

day.

J. G. LOCKHART. ·

Spanish Ballads.

BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.

THE warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his

heart of fire,

And sued the haughty King to free his long-imprisoned

sire;

"I bring thee here my fortress-keys, I bring my cap

tive train,

I pledge thee faith, my liege, my lord!

father's chain!"

O! break my

“Rise, rise! ev'n now thy father comes, a ransom'd man this day;

Mount thy good horse, and thou and I will meet him on his way."

Then lightly rose that loyal son, and bounded on his

steed,

And urged, as if with lance in rest, the charger's foamy speed.

And lo! from far, as on they press'd, there came a glittering band,

With one that 'midst them stately rode, as a leader in the land;

"Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there in very truth

is he,

The father whom thy faithful heart hath yearn'd so long to see.

His dark eye flash'd, his proud breast heav'd, his cheek's hue came and went;

He reach'd that gray-haired chieftain's side, and there dismounting bent;

A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he

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What was there in its touch that all his fiery spirit

shook?

That hand was cold, a frozen thing, it dropp'd from his like lead;

He looked up to the face above, the face was of the

dead!

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